Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Annotated Bibliography

Annotated Bibliography

Paterson, Katherine. (1977). Bridge to Terabithia. New York: Crowell. 0690013590

In this book, a young boy named Jesse Aarrons befriends a new girl named Leslie after she moves to his rural Virginian town. The two bond over their creativity and imagination. Playing in the woods near their homes, they invent an imaginary kingdom they call “Terabithia,” which becomes central to their friendship. They spend most of their free time playing in this imaginary land they have created, until tragedy strikes.
Readers will be drawn in by the vivid language Paterson uses throughout the novel. While potentially enjoyable for all ages, the depth of the imaginary land created by Jesse and Leslie will evoke nostalgia for a time of child-like imagination. This book also deals with the them of adolescent social anxiety and family conflicts, capturing the adolescent experience.

Koertge, Ron. (2003). Shakespeare Bats Cleanup. Cambridge, MA: Candlewick. 0763621161
This book takes the form of a series of poems written by a fictional 14-year-old named Kevin. A baseball enthusiast, Kevin has been benched by mono. Plagued with free time, he writes free-verse poetry. Through his writing, he both comes to better understand himself and the world around him. Notably, the book includes his attempts to come to terms with the death of his mother.
Through this series of poems, Koertge captures the adolescent mind through. He also constructs a vivid (though somewhat disjointed) narrative.

Fleischman, John. (2002). Phineas Gage: A Gruesome but True Story About Brain Science. Boston: Houghton Mifflin. 0618052526

This non-fiction book documents the gruesome accident of railroad worker Phineas Gage. While laying railroad ties, an explosion sent a metal bar through Gage's skull, damaging his brain. Gage survived the accident, but suffered significant changes in his personality as a result of the damage to his brain. This event played a key role in forming our modern understanding of how the brain works. Well illustrated with photographs, this text would be engaging to many young readers. Though the accident and some of the accompanying imagery are gruesome, this may be exciting for some students. Most importantly, this text demonstrates not just what scientists know, but how they come to know things.

O'Malley, Bryan Lee. (2004). Scott Pilgrim's Precious Little Life. Portland: Oni Press. 1932664084

In this graphic novel, socially awkard slacker Scott Pilgrim's mundane life is shaken when he meets the literal girl of his dreams, Romano Flowers. After scheming to encounter her again, he is confronted by a mysterious man. Scott and the man engage in an absurdly fantastical battle filled with supernatural elements. This man was one of Ramona's ex-boyfriends. The first in the series, this novel ends with Ramona and Scott agreeing to date on the condition that Scott defeat her other ex's.
The graphic novel appropriates tropes from video games, particularly during the fight scene. Atypical in both plot and presentation, this novel may be off-putting to some. However, there is definitely an audience for this series, particularly in the form of nerds who would be familiar with both the graphic novel format and the video game-style battles which take place in this text.


Monday, November 28, 2011

The Hunger Games

The Hunger Games
I'm sure I'm not the first person to draw a connection between The Hunger Games and the Japanese film Battle Royale – a movie in which a class of students are forced to fight to the death. When I told a friend that I was taking this course at the start of the semester, she said, “Oh, I bet you're reading The Hunger Games, aren't you?” Somehow I had managed to avoid ever hearing about this book, even though it is apparently massively popular. When I read it, I quickly figured out why.
The book is exciting and has a powerful and compelling plot. Though the tone of the novel is inherently dark, I would draw parallels to other compelling texts such as Harry Potter; the kind of texts that make non-readers read.
That said, I'm not sure I would be comfortable incorporating this text into my classroom (though I would present it as an option for choice reading). The use of violence throughout the text, in my mind, does not serve a purpose; it is not representative of any greater political message, and it doesn't further the plot. Rather, violence – or violence and survival – forms the crux of the plot.
Perhaps this speaks to my lack of ability as a reader, but I had difficulty unpacking the text. There was an overarching theme of an over-controlling government, violating individual liberties to exert authoritarian control and exact what amounts to petty revenge in the form of making an example out of those who rebel. However, if this theme was somehow supposed to apply as a commentary on a modern-day situation, I personally had difficulties drawing any parallel.
Ultimately, what drew me in to this book were the interpersonal relationships between the characters. While others may draw on the romantic aspects of the text regarding Katniss and Peeta, I found the relationship between Katniss and Rue particularly engaging. It seemed less cliché; it wasn't a relationship born out of romance (contrived or otherwise), nor could both Katniss and Rue both win, making the allegiance futile over the long term. Yet it spoke to the desperation of human nature as well as the roll that sentimentality can play in the face of danger.
The text struck me as well written, engaging, and at times heartbreaking. This one will go on my list to read again when I can approach it for my own benefit rather than in an academic context.

The Ear, The Eye, and The Arm


The Ear, The Eye, and The Arm, like much science fiction, takes place in what could be described as a subtle dystopia. In the futuristic setting, there has been a good deal of scientific and social advancement (though they now live in a world where petroleum is so scarce that plastic is viewed as a luxury). Despite this advancement, the streets are plagued with crime and there still exists significant social inequality.
Nancy Farmer makes an interesting choice in the use of a regressed society, Resthaven, contained within walls in sort of wildlife sanctuary filled with humans. The juxtaposition of this society with the larger society forms a commentary on the conditions of the futuristic lifestyle contained within the book.
I was intrigued by the setting of The Ear, The Eye, and The Arm. The choice to use Zimbabwe struck me ass odd. It seems strange to me an American author would choose to use Zimbabwe, rather than a country she (and we, as readers) are more familiar with. Though there were some elements inherently related to African culture, the story could probably have been adapted to any other country. For me, the use of Zimbabwe didn't necessarily unlock any element of the story that couldn't have been presented in a different setting.
However, the use of Zimbabwe does serve as a commentary of by disrupting the status quo. By trivializing the role of current economic and military superpowers in the future, Farmer paints a grim picture for the fate of those nations in her depictions of economic prosperity in the setting.
The text includes elements of science fiction as well as mysticism. This mysticism at times goes unexplained, and at other times is incorporated into folkloric elements of the narrative. This mysticism explained by folklore is part of what makes the Zimbabwean setting crucial to the story telling in the few instances that it is.
The story contains themes that may seem cliché in some texts. These include adolescents feeling imposed on by the strictness of their guardians, the conflict of technology versus human spirit, and a variety of other themes not uncommon to Sci Fi. However, The Ear, The Eye, and The Arm was a refreshingly unique take on these common themes, approaching them in a manner in which they only seem cliché on careful consideration.
While this text may not be a perfect gem in the Sci Fi genre in the same manner as works by authors like Phillip K. Dick or Neil Gaiman, the same quality that keeps it from being an archetype for the genre makes it approachable for Sci Fi novices. As such, I think it would be valuable to include in a secondary education setting if appropriate the the standards and themes covered in the course.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Oppression. Language. Censorship. Voices, in many ways, was reminiscent of 1984. It seems that language has been a central theme of many of the books we have read – The Circuit, Sold, and even Looking for Alaska, and others as well . Language is empowering. In the case of Voices, the corollary is also true: Lack of language is disempowering, and that can be used to the advantage of the oppressor.
I had difficulty following the plot throughout the text. However, part of me wondered if this was intentional on behalf of author Ursula Le Guin. War is confusing and chaotic, and many people often are unaware of what is truly going on. In a real-world parallel, 92% of Afghaniadults didn't know about the terror attacks of 9/11 and about 70% of Americans thought Saddam Hussein was personally in 9/11. I'd like to think that Le Guin was trying to make a deep but subtle commentary by making the purposes of conflict and the parties involved difficult to follow. However, responding simply as a reader – especially from the perspective of a hypothetical young adult reader – the text was unenjoyable and confusing.
While the text in some ways is reminiscent of the refugee experience we have been studying in our previous units, the situation in Voices seems too ingenuine. In my view, fantasy is not an appropriate topic to communicate a certain experience. In reality, it serves better as a commentary on certain power structures. Rather than a refugee experience, I think Voices was somewhat effective in demonstrating the role that differing ideologies and beliefs play in oppression and conflict, such as those pertaining to religion within the text.
As a future educator I do have a certain affinity towards texts that present books as a form of empowerment and the formation of identity (one of the few reasons I seemed to be in the minority with a favorable view of Looking for Alaska). I enjoy positive representations of young readers within texts. However, I was unable to become immersed in the text.

Leviathan

I became immersed in Scott Westerfeld's Leviathan, but as I read, I felt it increasingly difficult to suppress the analytic, literary theory I have learned throughout my undergraduate studies. The issues of gender and class power struggles are present throughout the text. Further, the stories follow archetypes present throughout various fantasy works.
My experience with fantasy and sci-fi novels is somewhat limited. However, the “orphan protagonist who, either through fate or ambition, finds him/herself integral to a greater struggle he/she was unaware of when they set out on his/her journey, and the protagonist contributes to the struggle in a major way through his/her skillset and courage” seems to apply to both Deryn and Alek, but also Harry Potter, Frodo Baggins, Luke Skywalker, Clark Kent, and many more. Though the ending differed from the usual conclusion of the hero saving the known world (though I have not read the sequels), as I read, I couldn't help but feel as though I had read this particular story several times before.
Gender played a significant role in the text. As readers, we were shown a society in which women were prevented from taking on certain roles. Yet, Deryn desires to be a pilot in the service, and she takes on a male persona, “Dylan,” in order to accomplish this task. As the book progresses, Deryn discovers the VIP boffin who the service is escorting is in fact female. These elements of gender within the power system present in Leviathan are challenged throughout the text. I believe that this would serve as empowering to the young reader.
Not dissimilarly, Alek encounters limitations due to the circumstances of his birth as well. Though he is clearly advantaged in being male, his position in the royal lineage places him in a situation where his is unable to inherit the throne, but is continually taunted by its closeness. Alek too, in a way, challenges this limitation in his desire for power.
Beyond gender, the novel addresses the issue of class. Alek, brought up in privilege and with significant private education, was raised in a household that valued education. His father thought that all the citizens should be educated. Yet despite this, Alek is plagued by a degree of elitism as he makes his escape from possible persecution, viewing the common people with contempt during his first interactions with them, despite the fact that he is the one who is unable to function in society, failing to purchase parts from a shop or even acquire a newspaper without drawing conflict and unnecessary attention. Yet through the text, Alek appears to learn some humility as his situation has made it advantageous to present himself as a commoner.
The two protagonists predicaments disempower the notion of class and condemn gender discrimination while simultaneously creating a sense of encouragement towards challenging the situation of one's birth. While the purpose of introducing texts to students should not be to foster a particular morality, Leviathan is a medium for the author to critique society through what seems to be a familiar story.

Monday, November 14, 2011

Tangled Threads

My experience with Hmong culture has been limited. When I was a child, I had Hmong friends before I even knew what that term means. However, through my various courses I had learned a fair amount about the history of the Hmong people, particularly with concern towards the lack of home for an entire ethnic group.
As I read Tangled Threads: a Hmong Girl's Story, I felt as if the book tried to present me with emotions tied to that experience. I've read about these experiences in a general sense as they were reflected on in Edward Said's “Reflections on Exile,” but Tangled Threads attempts to portray these emotions in a personal aspect specific to the unique experience of a people – though I would argue it fails to do so. A the same time that the book serves to discuss what it means to be without a home, it also serves to illustrate both the discomfort and the wonder in the immersion in something new.
As in The Circuit (as well as other texts we've encountered this semester), Language once again plays a critical role in the experience of what it means to be human. Mai struggles with the conflict between assimilating into a new culture while trying to hold on to an old one. In this struggle, language plays a central role.
However, I felt difficulty becoming immersed in the text. It did not feel genuine. I've previously read Kao Kalia Yang's The Latehomecomer: A Hmong Family Memoir, and that felt in relaying an individual experience. In contrast, Tangled Threads seems to read more like an archetypical immigration story. Struggles with language, culture, religion, and finding a new home seem almost cliché when presented in this text.
If I wanted to incorporate a text about Hmong people into my class, I would prefer to use The Latehomecomer for older students rather than Tangled Threads. I don't think it has to do with whether or not the text is factually accurate (it's presented as a novel). Sold, for example, felt genuine in capturing the experience of a young girl being taken from her home and experiencing significant trauma. Unfortunately, Tangled Threads did not connect with me in the same way.

My Name Is

“My name is...” is probably one of the most – if not the most – difficult things I've had to read. I find it interesting, because in my experience with literature, I have always enjoyed the formal and structural aspects of literature. I like texts with powerful descriptive language, such as Steinbeck's works. I enjoy powerful dialogue, like in To Kill a Mockingbird. Yet “My name is” is completely lacking in both; The narratives take the form of a factual series of events, largely free of personal response from the narrator. Yet the text remains powerful. A sentence about playing soccer is said with the same lack of detail and matter-of-fact tone as a sentence about having a having a house raided.
The way the stories are told vary. Sine students use distancing language: “They opened fire on all of them. My uncle and his wife, who was pregnant, and my grandmother all died.”
Others use ominous language “They don't just shoot you,they make sure your death is long and very painful. Once I saw a man get burned to death in front of the town.”
Others are matter-of-fact, with varying levels of detail.“Finally, the gunman took his gun and shot three times, two into my fathers chest, once in his neck.” “My grandfather told them my father was not there. The men killed my grandfather.”
These particular features of their language use may be a product of learning English as a second language. However, it reminds me of the way people talk. Not in an artistic, Mark Twain-like style, but rather, in a genuine fashion. Through my life, I've been to several talks with survivors of various trauma – the atomic bombings of Japan, the Holocaust, beatings during the Civil Rights movement – and there is a quality used to that language that is common between all these tellings. There isn't a need for stylistic presentation or figurative language – the stories speak for themselves.
As a teacher, I would be hesitant to employ a text like this in a classroom, especially in a classroom where students might have experienced similar trauma. However, in some classrooms, a text like this might be useful alongside another text (for example, it's pairs well with Tangled Threads) in order to make the text seem real to the students.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Authoritarianism in Farewell to Manzanar

As a psychology major, I took great interest in the concept of the “authoritarian personality.” It was conceived of by a group of social scientists at Berkeley. Their goal was to explain the personality (and its origins) that predisposes one to fascist beliefs and actions. Their motivation was to explain the rise of the Nazis and the Holocaust, but the theory surrounding the personality theory can be applied to many situations. While it has been heavily criticized and partially debunked in their explanations for why the personality forms, the key components of the personality theory – the focus on an ingroup, the projecting of undesirable traits to an outgroup, and general xenophobia – still apply. When I wrote my senior paper on the Authoritarian personality, I used the theory to explain Executive Order 9066 and the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II. As I read Farewell to Manzanar, I could not help but be reminded of this theory.
    However, as I read the book, my focus shifted towards something that is not usually paid attention to – the authoritarian personality is usually used to describe the oppressor. After all, the oppressor holds the authority, so authoritarianism becomes apparent on a wide scale. But as I gain a close perspective of the microcosms within the oppressed minority groups, the same traits emerge. Throughout the memoir, authoritarian traits emerge from the Japanese characters, especially Jeanne's father. This is seen repeatedly in his resistance to her baptism, his views on sexuality and dress, his emphasis on tradition. Combined with the anti-American sentiment of the Japanese men and what could be perceived as paranoia concerned with helping the Americans, these authoritarian traits are seen throughout the book, even in the oppressed characters. And to me, as a reader, that makes it real.
    Too often, historical stories – memoir, nonfiction, and historical fiction – make the characters too unreal. The events are often depicted as cartoons: there is a definitive good guy and bad guy. One person or group is the evil oppressor and the other is the saintly victim. While it is clear in the book that the U.S. government was oppressive, the interned Japanese were not always likable. When the narrator elicits sympathy for the interned, she does this through a sense of injustice rather than through depicting a cartoonish, puppy-dog innocence of all those who have been oppressed.
    I genuinely enjoyed this book. The internment of Japanese immigrants is often a lost chapter in American history. Even those who acknowledge it often cast the significance aside by comparing it to the Holocaust that was occurring at the same time. I would definitely consider using this book in my classroom. I think it is very important to make sure events like this are not forgotten, and to recognize the moral ambiguity in actions taken by our own country.

Labor, Language, and The Circuit

As I read The Circuit: Stories from the Life of a Migrant Child, I couldn't help but be reminded of The Grapes of Wrath. The comparisons are pretty straightforward – a distressed family leaves for California in search of economic opportunity, taking jobs as farm laborers only to be continually met with misfortune and adversity. There are differences between the book as well. Some readers, due to anti-immigrant sentiment, might not sympathize with the Jimenez family as they do the Joads, arguing that the Jimenez family are not entitled to the “American Dream” as they are not citizens. The book is essentially about chasing what we would describe as the American Dream. However, and empathetic reader, armed with the knowledge of the immigration system, would understand the struggle the Jimenezes face. But perhaps the most direct comparison I would draw between the two texts is the ability of the property owners to exploit workers to the greatest extend possible.
    The Circuit goes beyond labor issues into other important issues such as language accessibility and education. While the goal of using literature in the classroom should not be to express moral behavior that we want students to emulate, my own personal biases urge me to use this text in hopes that Francisco's desire to go to school and to speak English instill in my students some sense of importance or appreciation towards education. Francisco essentially views being educated and able to communicate as a ticket to happiness. This is a very commendable attribute. On a teaching note, when incorporating this text, I may assign (or at least encourage) my students to emulate Francisco keep a list English words and definitions that they didn't know (something I think is valuable for people of all levels of English proficiency).
    Overall, the book strongly evokes sympathy for the main character as well as his family. With little understanding of what it means to be a migrant worker, this text creates a window allowing me to begin to understand that experience (even if just a little). Depending on time constraints in the classroom, this text would work well paired with a text like The Grapes of Wrath.

Monday, October 24, 2011

Shipwreck

I did not enjoy Shipwreck at the Bottom of the World. I don't feel the need to mask my feelings for the text. To me, it read as overly simplistic without the connection I necessarily desire from a book – I felt no attachment to or sympathy for any characters, and I did not get to know them as people. I am not sure as to the degree to which this can be generalized to the genre of nonfiction as a whole, but I believe that I prefer autobiography/biography and historical fiction books more.
Shipwreck read as a series of events, interlaced with historical context, geographic trivia, and related but disconnected facts. The chapters read the opposite of how I would have written them, starting out with information that I found unengaging before proceeding to the relevant story. The few times the text piqued my interest and ended the chapter, the conclusion to the events I was following did not readily arrive.
The redeeming quality of the text was in the pictures. The selection of pictures and the way they were related to the text made it seem real – and surreal. While some of the pictures were indiscernible from pictures of a Minnesota winter, some of the images were powerful. I especially enjoyed the picture of the boat that looked as if it were a negative. Images of wildlife or the dogloos helped me understand the reality of the story. The multimodal presentation of information ultimately made the book quite interesting.
I am not sure how to assess a book like this. I can't judge it on the plot or story, since those are beyond the author's control. The language didn't speak to me. However, it is important to note that the text was written for a young audience (If I wanted to learn about this independently, I would most likely seek out a higher-level text or read a more straightforward summary such as the Wikipedia page rather than reading a YA book.).

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

The Watsons Go to Birmingham – 1963

It's funny to think about which parts of books stick with you. I'd read The Watsons Go to Birmingham – 1963 a long time ago. So long ago that I didn't remember ever having actually read it. Heck, I didn't even know what it was about, save for the brief description we were given on the first day of class.
When I opened the book, I knew what it was about. The book was written in memory of four girls who died on the same day. I'd seen the Spike Lee movie Four Little Girls. I was expecting the book to fictitiously frame that event. When I started reading, I was surprised.
The book takes the form of a first-person narrative in an episodic format. Rather than being about the murder of four innocent girls, it is about a relatively normal family in Michigan. The children get into antics that are in many ways tame by some of today's standards. It isn't until the end of the novel that the historic incident occurs and impacts the lives of the novel's characters. In fact, race plays a relatively minor role for the first part of the book, and it isn't until the end that the reality of racism is fully realized for the characters.
What is funny to think about is which parts of a book like this stick with you. Just last week, before picking this book up, I was thinking about “some book” that I couldn't remember where a bully-like character insisted that the narrator give him a dollar that he found because of an illogical argument that the bully lost 50 cents the week before and that 50 cents and another 50 cents must have met up to make the found dollar. It sounded like something from The Wayside Stories of Wayside School, not a serious piece of historical fiction. Yet just a few minutes into the book, I run into this exact scene. The memories of having read this before flowed back to me: the fake garbage truck that picked up frozen people, the mom's story about her house getting burned down, the clever chapter titles, the Brown Bomber and the Ultra-Glide, overly-bundled kids and the mom's overreaction to the weather in Michigan. These were the kind of things I remembered (Even if I didn't know where Michigan (or Alabama, for that matter) were when I read it. What's funny is I didn't remember the ending. I knew what happened historically, but I didn't remember reading about it in a YA novel.
What struck me about this novel was the way it compared to The Book Thief. While both are historical fiction, The Book Thief takes place in a specific setting with specific conditions for it's purpose, but is relatively light on actual historical events. The Watsons Go to Birmingham, on the other hand, seems like it takes the opposite approach to the genre. The first two-thirds of the book could be written anywhere, in any time. The chapters largely read like something from a sitcom like Boy Meets World more than a work of historical fiction. It isn't until they ultimately reach Birmingham that the problems of the day become real for the characters.
A large portion of the book is light-hearted and fun. However, the tie in with historical events of racially-motivated violence shattered that image. Writing this now, I've realized that was probably the point that Curtis was trying to convey in writing the novel. I can't help but wonder why that didn't stick with me the first time I read this.

Monday, October 17, 2011

The Book Thief

I liked Death. I know, it's an odd way to begin a response to such a powerful book, but I enjoy the character of Death within The Book Thief. He's highly cynical, and his narration is often morose, but he provides what I see as genuine insight. I viewed Death as having a unique objectivity. He wasn't pigeonholed by nationality, religion, status as a victim or perpetrator, and he is in essence timeless – an eternal universal.
I think this text is valuable in bringing many lessons into the classroom. It is useful for discussing the role of the narrator (as discussed above) and the liberties an author can take with that element of a story. Additionally, it serves well for the purposes of emphasizing literature as a window into a historical area, as well as providing a voice for the oppressed.
But perhaps most interesting in the emphasis the text places on words – both written and spoken. Oration and propaganda, literacy and literature, and embedded narratives within one another. Zusak, through his own written narrative, has put the role of language in a historical context. I believe that this text could get students excited about writing and speaking, reading and listening. If they can get through it. I would imagine that the thickness of the book would be off-putting to students. The language was simple and the book was fairly easy to read. But even as a grad student, approaching the book of that length was intimidating – I can't remember the last thing I read that was over 300 pages. But I believe that if a student picked up the book, and actually gave it a chance, they would enjoy it. The young characters in the text are endearing. Liesel in particular demonstrates a hope in trying to reclaim the very essence of words in order to further her own compassionate means in a time marked by violence and desperation.
I have read very little on World War II beyond history texts, and nothing that could be considered non-fiction. The only insight I have to the personal aspect of the victimization of the war is The Diary of Anne Frank. If I remember correctly, the last lines of that book (or at least near the end), were “I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart.” This stands in contrast to Death's utterance, “I am haunted by people.” This quote brings me back to the original point I made in this post – I like death. He gives us a lens with which to view the events of the book, and he makes clear the brutality of war. Yet Liesel, like Frank, recognizes both the horrors of war and the good in humanity, and tries to look for both. In this sense, the book ultimately, offers insight into what it means to be human, and how this emerges throughout various historical contexts.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Stuck in Neutral

Stuck in Neutral is a narrative from the perspective of a paralyzed teenager suffering from cerebral palsy who is perfectly cognizant of the world around him, but has absolutely no way to show it. This creates a tension in which people think he is a brain-dead vegetable despite the opposite being true. As a result, the narrator, Shawn, believes his father is struggling with the decision of whether or not to euthanize his son.
Interestingly, in spite of the exceptionality of cerebral palsy, Trueman portrays Shawn as a normal teenager in terms of his thoughts. Because of this, Shawns relationship with his father – though complicated with his fathers plans to kill him – is accessible to other teenagers at a time when their beliefs of what is best for them differ from their parents. Describing his father, Shawn illustrates t relationship of conflict with loving father “My dad is a complete jerk and a great guy: He is ugly and handsome, charming and cruel, funny and angry” (23).
In a sense, though Shawn's father does not understand him far beyond the way any teenager claims their parents do not understand them, a reader can still connect with the universal notion of being misunderstood. Shawn states, “My father's version of me is a paper-thin, imaginary Shawn, a two-dimensional version of Dad's worst fears” (29).
One interesting aspect of this relationship is Shawn's understanding of his parents' divorce. Many children and teenagers feel as though they are at fault for a divorce. In Shawn's case, he actually is; his father was unable to cope with his child's condition while maintaining a healthy, normal relationship with the rest of his family
And, beyond these turmoil-filled aspects, Shawn is portrayed as a normal, pervy, boob-obsessed 14-year old.
In regards to these fairly universal themes, Shawn's experiences are relatable, despite being rather exceptional in terms of the conditions surrounding his life. The exceptional nature of the relationship between Shawn and his father resulted in Shawn's father becoming famous for writing a poem about the ordeal. As Shawn puts it, “Dad's fame has made him a professional victim of our relationship.”
This book effectively brings the reader into the mind of Shawn (though Trueman does at times employ an awkward form of writing in which Shawn speaks directly to the reader). In this sense, it is successful as an example of “multicultural literature.” The classification of this text in that category challenged my notion of what constitutes “culture,” which I have generally viewed in terms categories such as race and ethnicity, sexuality and gender, and religion and nationality. However, the text forces the reader to consider the plight and role of those who are essentially a different class of people, as well as the social, cultural, and moral issues surrounding them.
Beyond confronting the specific issues face by those with disabilities, I believe the text challenges the reader recognize the hazards of perspective; that they can't truly know what someone else is experiencing. Just like one cannot understand the experiences of being of a race other than their own, they cannot truly understand what it means to be handicapped. In a way, the book makes an argument for euthanasia. Everything the dad says makes sense, but only from an outsiders perspective. The reader's response, in a way is the same as the audience on the talkshow the dad speaks to, and the reader finds themselves “agreeing with something that they don't quite understand, but that makes too much sense to ignore” (75). But the book's argument against euthanasia is much greater – no one can understand what a specific person experiences or what they might want.
In terms of writing quality and story, the book leaves something to be desired. The book ends with rising tension, leaving the climax and the conclusion to be constructed by the reader. This model conflicts so heavily with the structure of plot that most readers have been raised on that it becomes disconcerting. However, the questions the ending leaves in the reader makes it a valuable text to spark critical thought about serious issues.

Monster

Monster, by Walter Dean Myers, raises interesting questions about race as well as our legal system. As readers, we are called to question the role that emotion plays in the court room and the extent to which race influences these emotions.
Criminal cases in the United States are, in theory, supposed to be based on facts and evidence. If there is reasonable doubt that a defendant committed a crime, they are supposed to be freed. However, throughout Monster, we are introduced to multiple instances of emotion taking over in place of reason. Steve, the protagonist (though it feels strange to call him such as he plays such a passive role in the story), is told by his lawyer, O'Brien, that the jury already believes him guilty. “You're young, and you're Black, and you're on trial. What else do they need to know?” (79). Even O'Brien seems to believe that Steve is guilty, but she does her job of defending him and upholding the law, clinging to the notion of reasonable doubt.
The prosecution feeds on the emotional response of the jury. At one point, the prosecutor sent the jury home with crime scene photos of the murdered victim. This serves no relevance to whether or not Steve is guilty; his guilt has no bearing on whether or not the murder was gruesome – that fact exists independent of the reality of Steve's involvement. Yet these images were used in an attempt to emotionally to manipulate the jury. Emotions play a role in other points throughout the story as well. Steve communicates this through his screenplay, with directions such as “CUT TO: CU of JUROR looking bored” (54), reminding us as readers that the jurors interest has bearing on the potential outcome of a cse.
In my view, the book also illustrates the potential moral issues with the notion of felony murder. Felony murder is a charge, essentially equal to murder in severity of punishment, for being involved in any felony in which a murder takes place, even if one had no involvement in the actual murders. In my mind as a reader, even if Steve had been guilty or being a lookout for an unarmed robber, he had in say in whether or not a murder was going to take place. Oddly, Bobo, who was actually in the store and could have possibly been the actual murderer, wasn't charged with felony murder in exchange for turning in Steve, whose involvement was debatable.
One interesting thing to note is that despite being in the form of a screenplay “written” by a black writer, the novel seems to employ a subtle racism through the notion of white neutrality. Generally, characters are considered to be white unless otherwise specified. For example, Steve, writing the story, feels the need to note that Arthur Williams is a “Black detective,” implying that all the others are white.
The book approaches race multiple times. Race is made a prominent theme in the text, despite the fact that in a courtroom the only thing that is supposed to matter is evidence. A scene with the mayor notes that the city is interested in all crimes, and not just those committed against white people. The book also confronts systemic issues surrounding black Americans, noting that a significant number of black men are unemployed or underemployed, suggesting that this results in a predisposition towards criminal behavior.
In my mind, the format of the book made it very accessible. I formed images in my head as I read as if I was watching Steve's film. The photo illustrations included in the book actually took away from the experience for me, forcing images in place of those I formed as a reader. This text is an engaging read, creating tension as the reader forms an emotional involvement with Steve through his journal entries (the script portion takes a much more neutral view). Raising questions concerning race, morality, and law, the text is thought provoking and would be a wonderful tool to spark discussion and debate in the classroom.

Monday, October 3, 2011

The People Could Fly

The People Could Fly
Several of the stories take the traditional role of the myth, explaining an element of nature. While many of the myths I've previously encountered are from the Greek mythology and explain things like the rise and fall of the sun (Helios's chariot) or the origin of the winter (Demeter's sadness), these folktales explain much less grand aspects of nature, such as the tortoise's beaten shell or the alligator's burned skin.
I found the style of storytelling to be troublesome. The language and detail made the story read as if it were a summary or outline for a greater narrative. This is due to the nature and limitations of folktales; they are told as a series of events. The text lacks a certain flourish. After years of studying literature, it comes off as light in all the elements that I've been taught to look for in works with literary merit.
That is not to say, however, that the works are without literary merit. However, in this instance, the literary merit of folktales such as those found in The People Could Fly comes from their historical place in the culture of a people.
What particularly interested me was the emphasis of cunning and intellect. I enjoy the moral implications of the folktales. The characters (mainly characterized as a rabbit) were clever and willing to take risks in the face of impending doom. This reflected the situation of the enslaved black Americans; while the stories used physical strength, I saw this as being representative of social/political strength. This makes sense that the culture of an enslaved people would admire those who could use their intellect to circumvent the forces working against them.
One barrier I faced in approaching the work was the language. The use of dialectical and African words throughout the stories made it inaccessible to me as a reader. The simple addition of a footnote annotation system would have made the reading much simpler. Instead, the text utilized an endnote system which was impractical for looking up words. While some were fairly clear from the context or from being a cognate to an English word, other words were much less clear. However, the use of traditional language within the folktales enunciates the historical nature of the text. I was interested to learn (what I'm assuming is) the history of the term “tar baby.” I'd only ever heard it used as a derogatory term for black people. After reading the story, I had to look up the term, and it also can be used to describe a “sticky situation,” which I had no idea about.
I did enjoy the titular story, especially with the endnote explaining how it could have been a metaphor for people fleeing. “Euhemerism” is the term for treating mythological accounts as historical events and trying to make sense of the mysticism and supernatural elements. I can see why this story was important.

The People Could Fly

The People Could Fly
Several of the stories take the traditional role of the myth, explaining an element of nature. While many of the myths I've previously encountered are from the Greek mythology and explain things like the rise and fall of the sun (Helios's chariot) or the origin of the winter (Demeter's sadness), these folktales explain much less grand aspects of nature, such as the tortoise's beaten shell or the alligator's burned skin.
I found the style of storytelling to be troublesome. The language and detail made the story read as if it were a summary or outline for a greater narrative. This is due to the nature and limitations of folktales; they are told as a series of events. The text lacks a certain flourish. After years of studying literature, it comes off as light in all the elements that I've been taught to look for in works with literary merit.
That is not to say, however, that the works are without literary merit. However, in this instance, the literary merit of folktales such as those found in The People Could Fly comes from their historical place in the culture of a people.
What particularly interested me was the emphasis of cunning and intellect. I enjoy the moral implications of the folktales. The characters (mainly characterized as a rabbit) were clever and willing to take risks in the face of impending doom. This reflected the situation of the enslaved black Americans; while the stories used physical strength, I saw this as being representative of social/political strength. This makes sense that the culture of an enslaved people would admire those who could use their intellect to circumvent the forces working against them.
One barrier I faced in approaching the work was the language. The use of dialectical and African words throughout the stories made it inaccessible to me as a reader. The simple addition of a footnote annotation system would have made the reading much simpler. Instead, the text utilized an endnote system which was impractical for looking up words. While some were fairly clear from the context or from being a cognate to an English word, other words were much less clear. However, the use of traditional language within the folktales enunciates the historical nature of the text. I was interested to learn (what I'm assuming is) the history of the term “tar baby.” I'd only ever heard it used as a derogatory term for black people. After reading the story, I had to look up the term, and it also can be used to describe a “sticky situation,” which I had no idea about.
I did enjoy the titular story, especially with the endnote explaining how it could have been a metaphor for people fleeing. “Euhemerism” is the term for treating mythological accounts as historical events and trying to make sense of the mysticism and supernatural elements. I can see why this story was important.

Monday, September 26, 2011

Sold

“My bundle is light.
My burden is heavy” (60).
Sold deals with important concepts such as trust, feminist interests and patriarchy, and the sex industry. From the beginning of the novel, Lakshmi deals with what it means to be female in the patriarchal society of Nepal. Her mother informs her that they are fortunate to have a man in their lives. However, that man, Lakshmi's stepfather, doesn't actually seem to offer any benefit to the family; because of a disabled arm he simply sits in the tea shop and plays cards. The way McCormick tells the story, the stepfather is a negative force on the family, gambling away what little they have will doing little to provide or care for them. But in Lakshmi's mother's eyes, for a woman, “Simply to endure is to triumph” (16). This stepfather is ultimately the force that drives her to leave for the city after her mother told her she should stay home to go to school.

Patricia McCormick uses language skillfully to communicate important and emotional topics tangential to the plot. For example, in “Calendar” she discusses induced abortions, and in “Another Calendar” she discusses the high infant mortality rate by discussing an absence of notches in a wedding trunk for Lakshmi's younger siblings. McCormick's careful use of language – and sometimes lack of language – illustrates Lakshmi's experiences. The first sexual experience Lakshmi had as a prostitute was explained in fairly explicit detail, but as her time as a prostitute progressed, McCormick communicates the complacency Lakshmi developed as she no longer cares about the individual experiences by leaving them out.

I believe the students will be able to relate to Lakshmi's character and understand her experiences.
The language is straightforward (save for some of the names of people and places) and the vignettes are short, painting a clear picture of what Lakshmi perceives to be happening as she tells them. Though the novel contains a rather mature theme of sex slavery, there is excitement in the conflict that would draw a young reader into the narrative. Lakshmi's experiences are so far distant from what most American teenagers have experienced. It is hard to imagine, especially for an urban American, waiting on the rain as a source of livelihood. Yet the reader becomes immersed in these experiences, drawn into Laksmi's hope and muted despair as she encounters hardship after hardship.

The conclusion of the book returns hopefulness to the reader as Lakshmi once again feels she can identify herself to the American men. But the preceding pages communicate the horror that is the sex industry, especially in the third world. This book is a strong example of the way that literature can approach social issues, making them accessible to a wide audience.

Joyful Noise

Joyful Noise is a rather unique read. It contrasts very heavily with the socially conscious and emotionally charged books we have been reading so far. I can honestly say I never thought I'd read a book of poetry told from the points of view of insects.

During my undergrad, I had a strong interest in slam poetry (that interest contributed towards my desire to become an English teacher). Joyful Noise reminded me of the musical nature of slam poetry (which does sometimes include two performers doing a piece together). I found it somewhat difficult to read both parts simultaneously when they diverged. The poems find their merit when read aloud as they are supposed to be, and fortunately there are several recitations available online. The majority of the poems had readers mirror one another or alternate between lines. This created a strong rhythmic effect. There were a few instances in which the readers would say different words or phrases simultaneously. I found this to be particularly effective; the juxtaposition of words created a disharmonious contrast, breaking the pattern of the poem. I also believe that these poems are a good example of nature imagery. Additionally, they effectively bring the reader into the perspective of a bee or a book louse or a firefly.

I think these would be great to include in a poetry unit with students to get them engaged in reading the poems aloud. The duet aspect makes it hard to read alone as an assignment, but it would make for good classwork. The poems could challenge students' preconceptions of what they believe a poem to be or not be, while serving to illustrate how a reader can be brought understand how they can understand the perspective of a narrator, even if they have nothing in common. Ultimately, the poems are lighthearted and fun, and the illustrations help to enunciate the natural imagery found within the text, making the work accessible to a wide range of readers.

Monday, September 19, 2011

Looking for Alaska

Looking for Alaska chronicles the events surrounding a group of students at Culver Creek Preparatory School, a boarding school. The story is told from the perspective of Miles. Author John Green utilizes Miles's unique view as a newcomer to introduce the reader to the new setting, especially in regards to the students' cultures and norms.

The book, intended for a high school audience, deals in particular with the struggles Miles faces as a socially awkward introvert as he seeks a fresh start and acceptance from those around him. Miles finds himself latching on to his roommate's group of friends, but they themselves seem to be outsiders in the face of the monied and popular “Weekday Warriors.” As high school is a time when adolescents seek to find their identity and seek acceptance, they may be able to relate to Miles.

When viewed from an objective standpoint, Miles is shallow and self-interested. Alaska is hypocritical and overly self-righteous. None of the main characters are especially likable, and they can be seen as making life hard on themselves by unnecessarily antagonizing those around them. But the characters themselves are not what the reader relates to. Rather, the reader relates to the characters' experiences. For example, even if a reader would more closely associate with the Weekday Warriors in terms of their personal traits, they still understand what it means to be picked on and face exclusion from a particular group. The experiences make the characters universal.

The experiences the reader relates to change as the book transitions from “before” to the “after.” Even if Miles is unlikable, the reader has to feel sympathy for him at the loss of a friend. Even if Alaska was reckless and self-absorbed, there is still sadness that her life came to an end at a young age. And the guilt that Miles and Chip feel becomes tangible.

I found the second half of the book to be very accessible in regards to the characters coming to terms with loss and coping with grief. I was drawn in as Miles and Chip searched for the reason that Alaska died, trying to clear their conscience. It is in this respect that Looking For Alaska finds its merit. I think the book does a good job of dealing with the topic of death in a realistic and engaging way.

While the characters themselves may only be accessible to a small portion of the audience, the emotions and experiences the characters face are universal. In this regards, John Green captures the adolescent experience within Looking for Alaska, and it is through this reflection of humanness that the book finds value as a work of young-adult literature.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian

Sherman Alexie's The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian approaches a variety of topics, including medical problems and disability, racism, poverty, tradition, and the dangers of alcohol. these problems are depicted through the experiences of Arnold Spirit, a young Indian on the Spokane Reservation, who faces a number of hardships though his childhood and early teenage years.

The book is not sanitized in the same way many young adult novels are. Rather, it approaches topics realistically, often resulting in gritty situations and language. At some points this crosses over into the offensive, such as when one of Arnold's white schoolmates asked “Did you know that Indians are living proof that niggers fuck buffalo?” However, this type of language usually functions to illustrate important concepts such as racism.

This type of candor allows Alexie to approach important subject matter, such as the dangers of alcoholism, especially among the Indian population. The role of alcohol is a recurring theme throughout the book. Eventually, Arnold's sister, grandmother, and father's best friend all die in ways that somehow involve alcohol.

Additionally, the book illustrates the impact of poverty through emotional language such as, “Sleep is the only thing we have for dinner,” or saddening imagery such as Arnold's dog being shot because his family cannot afford to take it to a vet. Further, Alexie is not afraid to demonstrate the reciprocal relationship between the issues of alcohol and poverty.

While the book functions to illustrate these various social problems, making them accessible to an audience that may not have experienced them directly, racial identity seems to be the largest theme of the book. Arnold, having left the reservation to seek out an education from a higher-quality school, faces the conflict of preserving his own heritage while trying to successfully integrate into an all-white setting. Arnold illustrates this conflict by stating, “Life is a constant struggle between being an individual and being am member of the community.” Initially, Arnold is rejected by both the students at his new school as well as the Indians back on the reservation. He is viewed as a traitor for leaving, and his best friend, Rowdy, blames him for his sister's death, arguing that she would have never left the reservation and would still be alive if Arnold had not inspired her by doing the same. However, Arnold is eventually accepted at his new school, in no small part due to his recently discovered athletic prowess. Further, Arnold seems to come to terms with his Indian heritage, embracing the nomadic tradition his people formerly held.

The book allows the reader to see Arnold's growth as he comes to terms with these issues in his life. The illustrations further demonstrate this thought process. By vicariously living through Arnold, Alexie allows us a glimpse at the life of a young, impoverished Indian. The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, while potentially controversial, would be beneficial in a young-adult classroom as it illustrates how writing can be used to share perspectives of others without sacrificing the approachableness of the material.